Ravenclaw, Mother Lions, and Transfiguration Class
by xStarxWolfx
Summary: "You won't believe what just happened, Imaginary People!" Written thoughts from a third-year Ravenclaw student in Transfiguration class. Includes fluffy McGonagall/student interaction, 'cause I like that sort of thing. No slash, slight Hermione bashing.


Author's Notes: This is just something I whipped up when I was reading fanfics. I've always like McGonagall interacting with students, but it got me to thinking about how she felt towards other Houses, or really other Gryffindors in general. This is also my first shot at writing in the present tense, so don't hurt me if I slip up on the tenses once in a while ^^;

Also, I'm pretty sure this is blatantly self-insert. Usually I hate fanfics such as these, but I thought since it was just a short story that it would be okay. Believe me, I tried to make her as less of a Mary-Sue as possible! I don't really hate Hermione though…but it would be nice if she had an enemy, wouldn't it? Someone other than a sex-deprived Malfoy *rolls eyes*. Just so you know, though, Taylor's just a vessel for my McGonagall-related fanfic frustrations. Which will soon become AMV frustrations _if I can find the blasted footage._ Anyone know a good site to download the aforementioned movies? I'm most interested in the first movie, but I'd love more. Also, I'm certain this is already obvious, but no viruses, please. I don't think my heart could take it.

Also, sound. Sound would be nice. I'd like to watch the movie too.

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_Ravenclaws, Mother Lions, and Transfiguration Class_

;\\\\;

Hi there.

I'm writing this because I'm terribly bored in McGonagall's class, and there's nearly twenty more minutes of class left.

We're _supposed_ to be working on our assignment, but I'll just leave it for tonight…or tomorrow morning, at breakfast. Whenever I get around to it, I suppose.

Who am I? I'm Taylor Morgan, a third-year here at Hogwarts. I'm a Ravenclaw, which means I've got the brains but not quite the bravery for Gryffindor. I'm not sneaky or mean enough for Slytherin, which leaves Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

Now, I usually don't like saying things such as what I am about to write, but I believe it needs to be said.

I am too smart for Hufflepuff.

Let me give you a visual description of a typical Hufflepuff girl – giggling, laughing, a (Gryffindor) boy draped around her neck, and breasts too large for her school robe that she only wears about once a year, if the teachers are lucky.

So that leaves Ravenclaw. The Sorting Hat wasn't hesitant in his (its?) decision.

Ravenclaw is not as bad as you think. We have fun, too (although it's sort of an odd sort of fun), though I would highly suggest hanging out with students from other houses, if you catch my drift. They're _much_ more fun. I'd say in the most fun one _in_ that house, after all!

I think that it should also be said that I am the only girl with light hair in my year and House.

Yes, every other girl within the third-year Ravenclaws also has raven hair. Yes, I get teased horribly because of it. Do you know how many "blonde" jokes I've put up with? And I say "jokes" lightly – Ravenclaws are not renowned for their humor. Most of them start and end badly, but receive giggles from nearly the whole House!

I let my eyes dart around the room, just from utter lack of not knowing what to write from here. The Slytherins (whom we have double Transfigurations with) are discreetly making faces and mocking the other Ravenclaws, while my own class just ignores them and continue studying. I look to McGonagall to see what she's thinking of this situation, only to be met with one of her Stern Faces directed right at me.

Apparently, she had put aside the Slytherins to glare at me for the past five minutes straight.

I quickly dart my attention down to my paper. I knew how McGonagall worked as far as her tolerance for misbehavior. First it was her Stern Face. Then there was her (in) famous McGonagall Glare. Then if you still weren't listening, or if you did something particularly horrible, you got her Death Glare. This is the glare that earned McGonagall the nickname "the Wicked Witch of the West Wing". Of course, I made all of these up myself; do you really expect the _Ravenclaws_, the goodie-goodies of Hogwarts, to ever speak poorly of a professor?

Now don't let my description of her severity get you fooled. I'm actually quite fond of Professor McGonagall. True, she may be strict, but she is also a strong woman, and definitely not one to cross. I'd never tell anyone else, but I've always kind of admired that, no matter what the other Houses may say about her (and trust me, they say plenty).

Unfortunately, my attempts to befriend the hard and thick-skinned Transfigurations teacher have been nothing but futile. One such plot was when I stole her glasses when she was out of the room, and proceeded to wear them during class. When McGonagall figured it out, it cost a Death Glare, Ravenclaw a hundred points, and about fifty thousand Ravenclaw Glares at me for the next three weeks.

Granted, I probably should have guessed. As fair as McGonagall is, there's no doubt she gives slightly more leniency whenever a _Gryffindor_ lands himself in trouble. No, "Mother Lion" McGonagall would defend her dear little cubs until her last breath, that much was evident.

But what of the other Houses? It was clear she didn't like the Slytherins, but it was understandable. After all, the Slytherins are hardly trustworthy to begin with, and when you add the long-standing House rivalry to the potion mix, it only makes things worse. I could tell McGonagall didn't like making it clear, however. As far as the "leftover" Houses go, she seemed equally distant, though I could see whenever she got impatient with a Hufflepuff girl.

She's indifferent towards Ravenclaw, as far as I can tell. Perhaps she looks down on us for not being as brave as a Gryffindor? I absolutely cannot stand it when Gryffindor gets all the credit for everything. Bravery does not a hero make, and as such, Gryffindor does not a Hogwarts make. This was quickly put to rest when a Gryffindor gave me a bruise on my left cheek after speaking the aforementioned statement. It was downright hideous to look at, so I covered it up with a healing spell that I wasn't sure if I could accomplish. It worked…for now. I had been getting awful headaches lately, and I think it's a side-effect of not accomplishing the spell correctly. I _would_ go to Madam Pomfrey, but I'd probably get yelled at.

I peek back up, simply because I am curious. She is still staring at me. Her frown has nestled itself deeper into the folds of her skin to create the perfect example of a classic McGonagall Glare. Her thin brows have furrowed evermore downward, always a bad sign. Her blazing emerald eyes hold my almost certainly terrified blue ones. I am writing all of this while simultaneously locking eyes with her, so forgive the spacing mistakes that will undoubtedly occur.

I look back down to my paper.

"Miss Morgan." The crisp voice of Professor McGonagall cuts through my thoughts. I, of course, don't look up, but rather continue to write furiously. After all, I was on fire. Metaphorically speaking, of course. McGonagall continues to talk. "Put that parchment away and work on the assignment, or I will be forced to confiscate it." (She certainly wasn't very clear as to which "it" she was referring to, her assignment or this parchment.)

I ignore her, much to my shock (and probably the Professor's, as well). I'm regretting it already, but I just had to get my thoughts down. Now, where _were_ my thoughts?

Oh yes, how Gryffindors get all the credit. I may be just being cruel to Gryffindors because of one person, but that's neither here nor there.

You wanna know who?

…huh, you don't? Well, too bad, Imaginary People! Just for that, I'm going to tell you!

It's that girl, Hermione Granger. She's got it all! Beauty, brains, brawn, and, let's not forget, _bravery. _She also has the coldhearted Professor McGonagall wrapped around her stupid Gryffindor finger. Not that I care, by the way. She gets the highest grades in her year, and possibly even all of Hogwarts. I've been working my witch behind off trying to even get _close_ to her level of Transfiguration, but I'm just not skilled at it. And she does it without even blinking.

And to even add to the hurt, _it's not even one of her best skills._ She's got me beat in every single class, _including_ Charms, one of my best classes. She's even signed up for Arithmancy next year like me, and she simply won't shut up about it! It's all I've been hearing from her! (Not that I was spying on her by pretending to read a book and sitting upon a staircase while she walked through, no.)

Honestly! I'd love nothing more than to duel that little cockroach and show her that she's not the best, no matter what "the Chosen One" or anybody says. I also want to prove myself to Professor McGonagall, but that's entirely irrelevant.

Oh yes, I could just see it now! I'd hit her with the leek jinx, just to embarrass her. Then I'd use _expelliarmus,_ and if that doesn't work, I'd just have to use _rictumsempra_! I'd have to work on _protego_ of course – as well as some water spells, since fire seems to be her favorite kind of spells to use. Oh, if I could, I'd be cackling right now! I'll have to do that when I get back to the dorm room, others be damne-

Oh shit! _Oh shit!_ You will never believe what just happened, Imaginary People! McGonagall strolled over to my desk, picked this paper up, read it, and set it back down. Then walked back to her desk. Bloody hell, I am _so_ dead! Now that I think about it, I think I did hear the clacking of heels, but I was too focused and I didn't think anything of it.

Here's how it happened: I was in the middle of writing a sentence when someone touched my arm. Looking up, startled, Professor McGonagall took this opportunity to snatch my paper up. Readjusting her spectacles, she read my paper with no emotion on her face. I sat watching her, quaking in fear. When she was finished (presumably), she set it down once more and turned on her heel, making her way back to her desk.

Chancing a look up, I watched McGonagall at her desk. She was marking papers, her face hidden only by her wide-brimmed witch hat. I just noticed; whenever she's wearing her hat, it's always tipped to one side, and it is always the left side. Well, I suppose it would be the right to her. There's also a feather in it; a phoenix, maybe Fawkes'? Or an unfortunate owl that she ate? I wouldn't know; I'm downright awful at telling these things. Maybe I'll do some research.

But no! I can't get distracted by McGonagall's mysterious feathered hat!

Ugh, some Ravenclaws just whispered furiously to me. "What are you thinking, Taylor?" one hisses. You know, Imaginary People, I never did learn her name. "You're going to get us in trouble again, you git!" another spits. Damn, Ravenclaws can be cruel. "Are you _still_ writing!" one whispers fiercely. This is not the kind of "fierceness" that I admire in McGonagall, dear Imaginary People. This is just nasty.

Looking over, I can see the Slytherins mocking my fear. I grin furiously, my eyebrow twitching and I…well, I snap my quill. Looks like my rage was too much for the poor thing. Unfortunate; it was my favorite one. A nice, sharp end, a pretty color distinction…luckily, this isn't the first time it's happened, and so I have spare quills on me at all time.

I spare a glance to McGonagall, who catches my eye for a moment before quickly averting her gaze to her papers. Whoa, wait. Rereading my last sentence, I have now come to the conclusion that McGonagall had been _watching_ the whole _exchange. _I grin furiously again as I realize that she didn't do anything about this blatant bullying. She must really loathe us Ravenclaws! Oh, how I wish to be a Gryffindor…damn Sorting Hat. Maybe if I bribe it, it'll change its mind and put me in Gryffindor instead.

Oh good, class is over. I love it when everyone gets up to leave and I am still scratching away. I wish I had one of those Muggle machines with a…with a keyboard. What do they call those? Oh well, I'd better gather my things.

Bloody hell, Imaginary People! McGonagall pulled a fast one on me! When I was packing up my things to leave, she called me over to her desk. I'll describe the scene in detail.

"Yes, Professor?" I ask timidly. Because, really, this was the great Minerva McGonagall I was talking to. Her power and might was only rivaled by Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. And maybe Harry Potter, but that's neither here nor there.

She hesitates. "Have you really been trying to reach Miss Granger's level of Transfiguration?"

The question didn't have any doubt or malice or scorn. As far as I could tell, it was simply curiosity, which made me feel a bit better. "...yes, Professor," I admit sheepishly.

Professor McGonagall puts her quill down and places her aged hands on her lap. Looking up at me, she speaks with the utmost seriousness. "Would you like some help?"

"Professor?" I ask, confused.

"I would be more than happy to provide you with extra lessons," she explains. "Merlin knows, Transfiguration isn't easy."

I stare at her, my jaw wide open. Forgetting for a moment that I was in the presence of a teacher, I say, "_You_," as I point to her, "are trying to help _me_," I point to myself, "beat your favorite student." I finish with a flourish of my hands to no place in particular.

McGonagall chuckles. She _chuckles._ "Miss Morgan," she told me, "Miss Granger may be one of my own House, but it's high time I remember that all Houses are my students."

At this point, I'm still staring at her incredulously, so she chooses to help me out. "So, your decision, please, Miss Morgan?"

"Uh…sure," I sputter. And - get this, Imaginary People – I think she _smiled_. Smiling! From Professor McGonagall! Who'd've thought? It wasn't very big – only a slight quick at the corner of her mouth – but I caught it.

"Excellent," she says. "Meet me tomorrow in my office after dinner."

After that, I head towards the door with my books. It was only when I hesitate in the doorway when something hits me.

"Professor?" I ask, turning.

"Hmm?" McGonagall looks up from her papers.

"Aren't you going to punish me for not listening to you and writing in class?" I was just _asking_ for trouble, but something told me it was odd that she didn't mention it. And, as a writer, it was my job to discover the truth.

McGonagall ponders over it. "No," she finally decides. "In fact, I think I will award one hundred points to Ravenclaw for such excellent writing."

This surprises me. "U-uh…" I stutter. "T-thanks…"

"Think nothing of it," McGonagall replies, going back to her papers. "Oh, and Miss Morgan?"

"Yes?"

"I believe it would be 'Mother Lioness.'"

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This was meant to be a oneshot, but now I'm actually considering making it a twoshot, including Hermione and teh duel! Who would want to see that? Anyone? *crickets chirp*

Also, considering on how large the HP fanfiction base is, I'm fairly sure no one will see this. But if you do, review please! Even if it's a "good". I'll take that, considering the fandom I'm working with. XD

If anyone is interested, I did write some of Minerva's thoughts at the end of this chapter. If enough people want it, I'd be happy to post it at the end of the possible next chapter. If only one or two people want it, though, I'll just PM them. XD Okay, I'll stop talking now. Remember, review or I'll send the pixies on you *McGonagall Glare*


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